Leather creaked as his fingers tightened on the wheel. The speedometer ticked past eighty.
Home.
It meant everything that she’d think of his house as home. If she felt comfortable enough, maybe she’d stay.
It had been bad enough after Nik left. The quiet, the emptiness, the loneliness. If he were being honest with himself, it had been part of what prompted him to invite Natasha to stay in the first place. He’d jumped at the chance to have another person sharing his space. The house was too big for just him.
But if Natasha left? There would be no replacing her. Her sweet, sassy presence filled his home to every corner, making it feel lived in, used, and loved. She brought new scents to his kitchen, new music, and the sound of conversation and laughter. She gave him a reason to dance in his own house, something he’d always meant to do, but never done.
He didn’t want her to leave. He—and his home—needed her to feel whole.
But she was still looking up apartments, still set on moving out before the next season started filming in a few weeks.
“How turned on were you tonight?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “At the show.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been more turned on in my life.” He shot her a heated look. “Can you dance like that?”
“Burlesque?”
“Yeah.”
“Macho,are you asking if I’ll do a striptease for you?” She flashed him a wicked grin.
“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t—”
“I will.” Her lips curled, and she got a calculating look on her face. “For you, I will.”
That was better than the “maybe” she’d given him about the pole.
When he pulled into the garage, he rounded the hood to open the door for her and help her out. She stepped close to him and put her hands on his cheeks. Her eyes were dark and hot, her smile tempting beyond belief. When she pulled him down to kiss her, he would have given her the world.
His hands settled on her waist, and she kept it light and soft. Just the warm press of lips and the tease of tongue. When they broke apart, she whispered against his mouth, “Take me inside and make love to me.”
He stroked her cheek, and because he was a dick, asked, “What about your rule?”
She kissed him again, harder this time. “Fuck the rules. Carry me to bed,Macho.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, even though she just had. He hooked his hands under her thighs, boosting her up so she could lock her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders.
She laughed as he stopped to punch in the security code, keeping one hand under her ass. Once they were in the bedroom, he put the lights on low and gently set her on the edge of the bed.
She turned her back to him. “Unzip me?”
He sat beside her, skimming his hands up her bare arms. Her skin was cool. Smooth. Soft despite the strength of her dancer’s body, full of grace. He ran a finger down the elegant column of her neck, down the center of her back, tracing over the bumps of her spine. The buzz of the zipper parting fueled the tension of the moment. Goosebumps rose on her back, and when he touched his lips to her shoulder, she shivered.
“Cold?”
“No.” Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. “I just want you.”
He turned her toward him and kissed her like they had all the time in the world. Just kissed her, just his lips exploring and cherishing every centimeter of hers, just hints of tongue and the light press of teeth. When she tried to speed the intensity, pressing closer and sucking on his lower lip, he only caressed her body in soothing, languid strokes.
When her eyes were clouded with passion and her lips wet and swollen from his attention, he pulled back.
“You’ve never said you wanted me before.”
She pressed her face into his neck, as if hiding her expression. “I would think it was obvious.”
He shook his head, craning his neck to look into her face. “It was obvious that I wantedyou.Not the other way around.”
